Quod Perierat
by JosieSueLupin
Summary: "The Lost". The war changed everyone, leaving scars and taking away innocence one had. Hermione Granger had thought her life would have gotten better with the war behind her, but found her hopes to be naive. Running away from a life once known, Hermione finds herself somewhere new. She hadn't expected to run into an old face, nor had she expected to rely on him so much.
1. Change

**Name:** _Quod Perierat_ [Roughly translated: "The Lost"]  
**Genre:** Hurt/Comfort/Romace  
**Pairing:** Severus Snape/Hermione Granger  
**Spoilers:** I imagine all of the books. Though this is not Deathly Hallows compliant as Severus is still alive and the prologue will not exist in this story. Everything else is generally the same.  
**Trigger Warnings:** Minor Abuse/Depression/Running Away

_I own nothing. I am merely borrowing the characters and the world that the wonderful J.K Rowling created. This is how I stretch my writing muscle and I hope she doesn't take offense to what I do._

* * *

_With the end of war is supposed to come peace. Sometimes the damage of war can leave marks we soon discover don't go away with victory. Victory is hard earned, but it is not the end._

_The end is still years away._

* * *

Hermione Granger remembered the day they finally won the war. Victory had rained out and finally she was able to rest her weary bones. It almost felt like she had been fighting her whole life for that one moment. For a moment that was bittersweet and lost all to soon.

Of course the logical side of Hermione knew that the scars the war would leave wouldn't go away over night. They had fought for too many years to be that naive, but she had never understood just how hard it would be. The young bright witch had not understood how it would affect herself as well as the others she had fought alongside with. Not in the true sense.

Sorting through the deaths of others had been the first time she saw just how much the war had done. She had seen the look in Ron's eyes as he sat, his blue eyes just staring at the lifeless body of his elder brother. They had won the war but she could not find any joy in his eyes. They had all lost too much, their childhoods ripped from them before they'd had a chance to fully experience them.

They weren't adults. That fact was simple enough for Hermione to understand. Though they had matured, their minds leaps ahead of their bodies, they still weren't adults. Eighteen was still a youthful age, yet Hermione felt as if she was ready for retirement. They had not even embarked on their adult lives yet and here they stood; staring at the bodies of comrades, friends, and peers lost.

When the bodies of younger children were pushed past her, Hermione found herself lost in despair at the sight. She was merely eighteen years old and here she stood, watching even younger students lifeless. How could it be that the war had taken such young souls when she was aware of just how young she was herself. It almost didn't seem real that the war had taken people even younger than herself.

Unlike the others, Hermione was alone. She had no one to comfort her. The Weasley's all bunched around Fred, some eyes filled with sorrow and others with rage. Harry sat between the body of Tonk's and a sobbing Lupin. Hermione knew she should move to the war hero and comfort him, offer him something that she knew he needed. But how could someone offer comfort when they felt as empty as she did in that moment.

For the first time, surrounded by death, Hermione realized that the war would never truly be over.

* * *

_Three Months After Victory_

Nothing was ever truly the same after the war ended. Though Hermione tried as hard as she could, she could never seem to make it right. The expected upcoming nuptials of Hermione and Ron hadn't even needed to be announced, and now the two resided in their little apartment. Though they had yet to be wed; the two lived in what appeared to the be harmony; to the public at least.

Something had changed between the two of them, and what should have been easy was more difficult than either understood. Hermione had waited years for the moment that the two of them would finally be together, and now that she had it, she was unsure if she actually wanted it. Tired from the war the young witch did everything in her power to make the two of them work.

Their apartment was warm, filled with items that both Hermione and Ron had selected. Though she would have preferred to do without the _Chudley Cannons_ posters that adorned the wall of their bedroom; she couldn't find it in herself to care all that much about it. In the whole scheme of things it all mattered very little. She had to make this work, and the depression that had set over both her and Ron was making everything that much harder.

Though she could have begun on a new career of her choosing, Hermione decided that for at least the next few months she would study and then sit her N.E.W.T.S. There was no explicit need to, but somehow she felt as if she would be cheating the system by skipping it all together and going into a wizarding career. The familiarity of her studies gave her some peace and with the option to do it from home; she felt there was no need to pass it up.

Hermione hadn't had the time to logically think about what she wanted to do for the rest of her life anyway, and this gave her time to research and think about the possibilities that stretched out before her. Though both of the boys had decided to be Aurors, she found she was less sure of herself than they were. Sometimes she wondered when that had happened. Before everything had been so clear cut for her and now she found herself swimming in uncertainty and trepidation.

Now as the night grew into dawn, the witch found herself laying in bed; alone once more. The more nights that passed the more she found herself alone. Ron had changed, she knew he had, but when it happened she didn't know. Perhaps it had happened sometime in the war, or maybe it had happened on the day they had finally received the victory they had fought for. All the curly haired woman knew was that the boy she had fallen in love with was no more.

That alone was a thought that brought her more than one sleepless night.

This night was different from all the others though. Unlike before, Hermione did not eventually find herself in a restless sleep. When the clock read 5:43, she had finally pulled herself from bed. She usually found a drunk and stumbling Ron at around four, but now it was later than usual. Though she had experienced nights, mornings like this before, this one brought a sense of unease in her that she didn't comprehend.

The witch put on the kettle and then sat. She did not reach for a book, knowing that it would bring her no peace as it used to. Instead she sat on the bar stool, the robe wrapped around her form as she waited for the water to boil.

Chewing on her thumb, Hermione listened to the world around her. There was little sound from the kettle, her breathing was harsh to her own ears and the solitary bird outside the kitchen window almost seemed dimmed. When the crack of apparition signaled the arrival of someone, the witch nearly fell from where she was perched. Her eyes were wide as she waited and then the slam of the front door had her on her feet within a moment.

"Ron?" Her voice called into the chilled early morning air.

The wizard was drunk and as soon as he spoke that much was obvious to the witch, "'Mione... 'Ermione." A exasperated sigh left her lips as soon as he was done. She was done with wondering where her fiancee was at all hours of the night. Now didn't seem the time to confront him, but she couldn't hold her tongue. That never had been her strong suit.

"Honestly Ronald, must you always come home drunk?"

The man had already sauntered over to the fridge and was digging through it in an attempt to find something to eat. He merely gave a shrug of his shoulders in response. The man acted like an overgrown child more often than not. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but Hermione certainly did not feel like leaving it alone that night. "Please answer me."

"No want to."

What an answer, Hermione's mouth dropped open as she stared at the man digging through the fridge. Had he really gotten so drunk that he couldn't her like a person who had spoke English their entire life? Moving over to where he was, Hermione took a hold of his arm and gently yanked him back from the fridge. She meant no ill towards him, but the drunk man had not taken it that way.

Within a second he had back handed her and she laid across the ground in shock. Though the man was drunk, Hermione had never thought him capable of hitting her. She held a hand to her face and looked at her fiancee in utter confusion. He rather confused, staring at his own hand. "Eermione... Why... Got in my way..."

Though Hermione was unsure if he knew exactly what he was saying. She had never seen the man this drunk before, and she could only imagine what the alcohol had done to him. Standing, she ran a hand across her face as she tried to think of the correct thing to do.

Everything just kept crashing down around her.

A small part of her told her to call for help, but she was too proud for that. Everyone would be sleeping and she didn't wish to bother Harry and Ginny over something she imagined had just been an accident. Taking in a deep breath she opened her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the hiss of the kettle signaling that her water had reached boiling.

Obviously bothered by the sound, Ron quickly clamped hands over his ears, his eyes wide. "Shut it off!" He shouted and Hermione moved to do just that. Though it appeared she didn't move fast enough and the drunk wizard clambered forward to knock the kettle off the stove. The metal kettle crashed to the ground and the hot water splashed out. Bouncing off the floor, Hermione let out a loud sound of pain as the boiling water splashed across her lower leg and foot. She fell backwards, crashing into the drunk and pushing them both to the ground.

"Watch where you are going!"

With that, Hermione squealed as Ron pushed her off of him and then stumbled to his feet. She watched in shock as he moved to the bedroom before collapsing on their bed. The man had passed out and Hermione watched any of her last hopes pass with him.

The witch had thought she could make everything better, that she could somehow make everything go back to normal. If not normal at least something better than this. Every night she watched Ron come home drunk and a mere ghost of his past self, she realized that had indeed been hopeful thinking. If Ron could hit her when drunk, seem unaffected when she had been burned by his actions, what did that mean for the future?

Moving to her feet, Hermione held back the sound of pain and moved as quietly past Ron as she could. Grabbing her wand off of the nightstand, she numbed some of the pain, deciding that would do until she got somewhere to fix it.

The witch didn't bother to change as she packed herself a bag, moving only the essentials into her bag. The only two items she grabbed where pictures from her past. One of her parents and the other of herself and her two best friends during a time that had seemed happier. She didn't look back as she left the apartment.

There was no point in looking back. Her life had already changed too much.

* * *

**So there you have it, the first chapter in my brand new Snape/Granger story. Please leave a review, it encourages me to continue. I am trying to start writing again, and am making it a goal to write half a chapter every day. So expect fairly frequent updates.**

**Any constructive criticism is appreciated. There is more to come.**

_**Josiesuelupin**_


	2. Leave us to Rest

_The next installment in "Quod Perierat". I apologize for the wait. As usual I state that I do not own the characters or world I'm playing in._

* * *

When the war had ended Hermione had been far too tired to fully get ride of the the carefully laid out plans she'd had in place in case she'd needed to disappear. She'd had a few, sitting and waiting for the moment that she would need to use them.

The young witch had never thought she would need to disappear after the war. Every thing was supposed to be better and yet here she found herself putting a key in the lock of the old storage unit she'd been planning on getting rid of the very next month. The lock came undone with a little finagling and then she pushed the door up with a clang. Only three boxes had been placed in the small storage unit. Each one was labeled with a different name; _Hermione, Ron, Harry._

Moving over to the box that held her own name she crouched down and slowly pulled off the tape that held the contents inside. She pulled apart the flaps and stared at the items she had packed just in case they had needed to completely disappear. New clothes she'd never been seen in, a plastic bag full of documents, and some money she had stashed. It would be enough to get her out of the country and to start on her own.

Lifting up, Hermione opened the other two boxes and stowed the documents in her backpack to destroy later. With her gone she couldn't afford anybody finding them. She merely wished to disappear and start a new life away from all the dark memories the wizarding world held. They would be unable to track her and she didn't imagine they would try overly hard to. Everyone was hurt and she would turn into only another casualty.

A hand tightened on a box at the thought.

Sighing Hermione stood and began to stack to boxes on top of each other. She moved to pick them up before stopping and changing her mind. Pulling Harry's jacket from one of the boxes she slowly slipped it over her arms. She would miss her friends, that much was obvious, there was no harm in carrying a reminder of them and so she would do just that. Picking up the boxes now, she carried them until she came to a dumpster. She dumped the boxes with clothes into the dumpster before beginning to walk in the opposite direction. The young witch didn't dare look back in fear that she would doubt herself.

* * *

A sigh of irritation left the witches mouth as she looked at the muggle hotel manager. The man was worn from years of dealing with minor inconveniences and guests that were perhaps not the most upstanding. His hair had perhaps been a striking blonde color but instead now mostly held grey, the only inclination that he'd once been blonde was the slight undertone she found near his ears. His clothes were rumbled, his eyes weary as he scrutinized the young woman in front of him. "Ya ain't one of those whores are ya?"

If Hermione hadn't been as tried as she currently was she would have perhaps acted more offended than she currently was. She'd been walking for several hours, not daring to venture into the wizarding side of England and keeping away from too many people in fear that they would recognize her face from the war.

The witch was tired. She merely wanted to sleep. "No... As I said-"

Before she could finish her sentence she found herself being cut off by the old man, his voice loud and grating on her nerves. "I don' put up with whores... This is a fine establishment."

A scoff nearly escaped her mouth at those words. The hotel was in fact not a fine establishment and she had picked it for that very reason. The lobby was filled with dust, a light out at the far end and another flickering as if about to die. She wanted to point out these facts but choose to keep her mouth shut. It was his hotel after all and he could refuse to give her a room if he thought he was just in that. So instead Hermione let the weariness fall onto her face, her eyes filled with sorrow.

"Please... Sir. I need a place to sleep. I have the money." She pulled out her wallet and gave him a look so as to say she was desperate. At that last look his own face faltered and he swallowed roughly. The desperation of an almost beaten down woman had made him realize that she was in fact not a whore.

The man moved behind the desk and gripped a key before turning back to face her, "I am sorry, miss..." He muttered with a shame filled smile, "Not many pretty women lookin' to stay here after all... Unless they lookin' for a warm place to please their customers." She noticed that he dropped the more crudeness of his words, sure that she was in face not a prostitute who had come to service a cilent.

"Quite alright." She offered him a gentle smile and stepped closer to the desk. "How much?"

At that the man listed his price and she noticed that it was lower than she had expected. Perhaps her act had done more for her than she had intended it to. She pulled out the appropriate bills and handed them over to the man. "Here ye are." With that the key was hand and Hermione quickly closed her palm around the old metal.

The curly hair bobbed around her head as she nodded and offered another smile to the man, "Thank you..."

Then she was gone, moving away from the lobby and looking to find the room she had been assigned. She noticed that he had given her a room across the hotel away from any other guests and she wondered why that was. She supposed he could still be weary of her, suspicious that she would bring in a man in the middle of the night when he would not notice. Though Hermione had no intentions of that and instead would remain in her room until the next morning.

Putting the key to the lock, she quickly unlocked the old wooden door before pushing it open and walking inside. She nearly let out a sneeze, dust puffing up before her. It was obvious that no one had used this room in quite a bit of time. Moving forward she placed her backpack on the outdated but not overly worn bedspread and looked around. The room was small and rather bare, but Hermione found that it vaguely reminded her of Grimmauld place. The wall paper was peeling at the top, the pattern darkened from years of use. A desk and chair was placed near the bed, an old bible set atop it. The bed was not big enough to be a queen and Hermione supposed it was only that of a full. It suited her quite fine, and moving she sat in the old wooden chair that had been placed next to the bed. There was not much to the room and Hermione let out a deep breath for the first time since she had left drunken Ron at their apartment.

Moving, Hermione opened her backpack and pulled out the old shorts that would suffice as pajamas for the moment. She disrobed and changed into a baggy shirt as well as the old shorts. Placing the old clothes back into the bag, she moved it to the floor. The covers on the bed were pulled back and Hermione moved to lay in the bed.

For the first time the women allowed herself to truly cry.

* * *

"What do you mean she just left?" Harry boomed. The young man stood from his chair, managing to knock if over in the process. Small Teddy Lupin began to wail loudly from across the room, but Harry was far too focused on his red-headed friend to be overly concerned with the noise. His shaggy black hair flopped in front of his eyes, but it did not hide his obvious anger.

Ron backed up a few steps, stumbling slightly. He swallowed roughly before speaking in a small timid voice, "She was gone... When I got up. Her stuff was just gone... Well some of it." Ron had known that the woman had taken items that were important to her. He had sat on their bed for an hour that morning in confusion before finally flooing to Grimmauld place and facing his best friend. The young Weasley was suddenly regretting this, his friend's anger throwing him off and making him back up even more.

"Well where did she go?!" Harry demanded.

"I dunno..."

"How in the bloody hell can you not know where you fiancee went?" The anger in the young man's eyes only grew and he took a step forward. It was then that Remus Lupin stood from his seat to interject between the two friends.

Still rocking his young son the werewolf spoke up in a commanding tone. "Harry, calm down. You're not going to figure out anything if you keep yelling at the poor man."

Harry nearly sent a dirty look to the only father figure he had before letting out a grumble and sitting down in the chair next to the one he knocked down. He crossed his arms across his chest, but didn't take his eyes off of Ron. Lupin let out a deep sigh and gestured to the chair across from the dark haired young man. When Ron had also sat, Lupin sat next to him and continued to coo at his son in an attempt to get him back to his calmed state.

When everyone appeared to be calmed down enough, Remus spoke up again, "Alright... Ron, what makes you think that she has gone?"

"She took all the important stuff... Like her toothbrush and some clothes..." He saw the skeptical look of the two men and Ron quickly moved to add onto what he had just said, "And her favorite pictures. The ones she always keeps on her nightstand. She never removed them. I know she's gone, I know it." The confidence in his voice was obvious and Harry dropped his head down into his hands with a groan.

"Maybe she's just gone on holiday." Remus offered.

"No. She's gone." This time it was Harry's voice that sounded, muffled by his hands. Harry looked up and dead at Remus. "She would have left a note for someone if she'd only left for a little bit. Hermione is too thorough to forget something like that."

Remus furrowed his brow and Ron let out a tortured groan. He was obviously not pleased by this news even if he'd been the one to bring the concern to them in the first place. Harry was right, Hermione would not forget to leave a note. It was obvious to all three men at that moment that Hermione had indeed gone and she indeed did not want to be found.

"Lets give it a week or two." Harry finally offered, "If she's not back by then... We'll go looking for her." Ron opened his mouth to protest but Harry quickly shot him a look. "The war changed us all. Maybe all she needs is time to... breathe."

Remus didn't say anything to that statement but it was obvious to him that Harry knew well enough what he was talking about. Ron slunk back further into his chair, but didn't offer anything else in protest. Harry looked at Remus who appeared to be lost in thought, his hand moving through the little hair Teddy had on top of his head.

After a minute or two Remus opened his mouth, "I wish the war could let us all rest."

* * *

The next morning Hermione found herself awake as soon as the sun began to rise. Though little of the sunlight made it into her room, the few scarce rays managed to awaken her from her slumber. Arising and moving from her bed, Hermione began to get ready for her day. It was almost difficult, moving through a memorized routine with such a deep depression that had settled over her shoulders. Everything seemed harder than it had almost a week ago.

Hermione groomed herself as best she could, wrangling her curly locks into a pony tail and then managing to wrap it up into a bun. When it was time to get dressed she had a rather difficult time deciding what she wanted to wear. Eventually she decided on an oversized hoody and a pair of sweat pants. She would look like a worn down woman and perhaps it was reduce the risk of her getting recognized.

After all, not many expected the famous Hermione Granger to look so disheveled.

Moving out of the room, Hermione walked through the hotel until she had returned to the lobby. She gave a gentle smile to the old man before handing over the key. "Thank you." She moved to turn before stopping and deciding to ask him a question, "Um... You wouldn't happen to know of a close by train station would you? One with trains to France."

The man gave her a confused smile but nodded his head anyway. "Sure... There is one not a mile from here... Just done the road that way." He motioned with his hand. "I believe they have trains to just about everywhere. Ye'd have to check." He gave her a toothy grin and Hermione let out a breath of relief. Perhaps she wouldn't have to walk so far after all.

After another phrase of gratitude, Hermione exited the hotel and began to travel the road in the direction he had directed her.

* * *

_So I really wish I could say I was one of those people who writes really long chapters but I'm afraid I'm not. So I apologize now if this seems to be really short, I merely go with my thoughts and this is the length it decided it wanted to be. FORGIVE ME. Also I'm sorry about the wait, my head just doesn't want to write anymore and I'm very angry with it. I'm really trying. Please leave your thoughts in the reviews._

_Also, I'd like to state that while some people assume that people either wouldn't care or wouldn't know why she left, Hermione was well loved by her friends. They knew her. The war left a lot of damage and they all understand this, some better than others. Sometimes after a traumatic event you need to get away and breathe. I think people like Harry and Remus would understand this (Especially Remus). In this world I'd also like to point out that neither Remus nor Snape are dead. Tonks is, hence why Remus had Teddy with him._

_I hope you enjoyed this!_

**_Josiesuelupin_**


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